


vogue

by spookykingdomstarlight



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Quest: Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts, Dresses, Established Relationship, F/F, Flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 01:53:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12760716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookykingdomstarlight/pseuds/spookykingdomstarlight
Summary: “What would you wear if you had the choice?” Vivienne asked, genuinely curious.A wicked gleam sparkled in Leliana’s eyes, catching the light of the lanterns that hung about her favorite spot in Skyhold. So very close to the action at Skyhold’s heart, yet far enough that she could retreat when necessary and be forgotten. As much as Vivienne hated to be forgotten, it was sometimes a necessary good. People underestimated those who stayed out of the public eye and there was value in that. “I would wear shoes,” Leliana said, “and little else.”





	vogue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [commoncomitatus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/commoncomitatus/gifts).



“You do realize Josie intends for us to wear the dress uniforms, yes?” Leliana said, coming up beside Vivienne as she contemplated a bolt of sea silk. Pale gray, it mirrored the ocean in the calm that followed a storm. Vivienne found it lovely and appreciated that the Inquisitor had thought to give it to her—payment, she’d said, for some good deed or other, accomplished by herself and the other members of the team who last went out with her, the quartermaster already having taken what she needed to further clothe the Inquisition’s forces—though she’d merely offered a courteous thank you for the offering, neither prostrating herself before the Inquisitor nor brushing the gesture off entirely. They were still working out the edges of their relationship, she and the Inquisitor, and she had not yet settled on the level of familiarity she wanted to share with their capable leader. “To Halamshiral?”

“Indeed,” Vivienne answered, unable to keep a frown from crossing her lips. Under most circumstances, she only allowed her distaste to show when it was convenient to her. But for Leliana, she could be truer to her own feelings. Leliana would have seen through them anyway, being as accomplished as she was at The Game and knowing Vivienne as well as she did. “Are you sure we cannot talk her out of it, my dear?”

“Quite sure,” Leliana answered, sounding as put out as Vivienne felt. “Unfortunately, Josie can be as stubborn-headed as the rest of us put together. And she has very firm ideas about presenting a united front.”

“Can we not attire ourselves in similar colors? The red is not too abominably heinous.” That was a lie, and a damnable one at that. And Leliana knew it, too, because her mouth twisted up in disagreement. At that, Vivienne waved her hand in surrender. “No, you are right. It would be gauche.”

“To say the least.” She sighed, mournful, almost girlish in her unhappiness. It pleased Vivienne to hear it. She then indicated the sea silk. “This color would suit you well and would make such a lovely dress.”

This, Vivienne knew already. And yet, hearing it from Leliana of all people, Leliana who no longer dealt in frills and frivolity and kept a careful distance from everyone she met, meant the world to her. She wrapped her fingers around Leliana’s cool, dry hand and raised it to her mouth to kiss the not-so-soft arc of her palm. It remained calloused from her use of bow and arrow and there wasn’t much Vivienne liked more than to map the topography of those ever-changing marks. Leliana existed in contradictions and Vivienne so very enjoyed to take contradictions apart in her mind and put them together again. Even more than that, though, she enjoyed contradictions who evaded her attempts to categorize them and Leliana the Nightingale did all of that and more.

“What would you wear if you had the choice?” Vivienne asked, genuinely curious.

A wicked gleam sparkled in Leliana’s eyes, catching the light of the lanterns that hung about her favorite spot in Skyhold. So very close to the action at Skyhold’s heart, yet far enough that she could retreat when necessary and be forgotten. As much as Vivienne hated to be forgotten, it was sometimes a necessary good. People underestimated those who stayed out of the public eye and there was value in that. “I would wear shoes,” Leliana said, “and little else.”

That startled a laugh out of Vivienne, a feat rarely accomplished. “You jest surely,” she replied, searching Leliana’s face for signs of her deception, but all she saw there was a quiet, determined glee, childlike in its intensity.

Leliana’s delicate red brow arched. “You would call me a liar?”

“I would not. Merely a court jester if that is your answer.” And yet, the image made was a compelling one. She had seen and caressed Leliana’s body often enough to know that she would appear majestic even dressed in nothing. The addition of shoes, that one concession to propriety, would merely enhance the naughtiness of such an act.

Leliana clearly did this on purpose; she did not mean it in the slightest, not in any real manner.

Vivienne was only the littlest bit disappointed in that fact.

“Come now, Vivienne. Could you not imagine the looks on everyone’s faces if I did it? I would be the talk of Orlais for a year if not more.”

“You’d be banished from Halamshiral,” Vivienne replied, “and three months later, they would adopt the fashion and call it their own invention.”

Leliana smirked. They both loved Orlais in ways that most people here could not understand and would not want to even if they tried. The rest of Thedas shared its dangers out in the open. There was no artistry, no grace, in any of it. Only in Orlais could one face truly unique, beautiful threats. Most didn’t have the stomach for it. People like Vivienne and Leliana, they thrived under those circumstances. It was easier to defeat evil outside of Orlais; inside, one had to work for it.

And Vivienne very much enjoyed the pursuit.

She was lucky to find one here like Leliana, who also extracted pleasure from the Orlesian style. It would be lonely without her. Vivienne liked her compatriots well enough—some of them anyway—but others exasperated her. None understood her and she, in turn, chose only to understand what she needed of them and no more. Leliana was different.

“You will look stunning all the same,” Leliana said, a little more fierce than Vivienne had expected. “If anyone can make it seem elegant, it will be you.”

“Those are big words, dearest,” Vivienne said, pleased all over again at the compliment. It was the one concession Vivienne made. She would allow herself to trust Leliana’s compliments in a way that she distrusted all others. If Leliana wanted something from her, she would give it without a compliment.

That was love, she imagined, or close enough to it to be indistinguishable.

“I have nothing but faith that you will prove me correct, love,” Leliana answered. “And when I do, I believe you’ll owe me a drink.”

“I’d gladly give you more than that.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that you already give me everything else I might desire.” She said this with a lowered voice, her words smoky with innuendo. Of course, Vivienne knew exactly what she meant, what she wanted.

She pressed another kiss against Leliana’s hand and guided her toward the chaise. They were good, the two of them.

“I wish that I could see you wear little but a pair of shoes to Halamshiral,” she said, pressing the word into Leliana’s skin. “Shall we do the next best thing here?”

Vivienne was not at all surprised when Leliana nodded and told her yes.


End file.
